Supernatural Superheroes
by xxsurexx
Summary: Do you believe in the supernatural? Well, how about superheroes? They're real. They're recruiting. And they want Sam. The question is, will Dean let his brother go without a fight? Even if it means...becoming a teacher?
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I do not own this show, or the lovely Sammy-sorry, Sam!- and Dean Winchester.

**Present Day**

Dean paused outside the door. 

It was average size, average coloured, with an average metal handle.

So why was he finding it so hard to push open, like he would normally do for any other door?

Dean sighed and let his head fall forward, until it landed with a dull 'thud' on the door's surface. 

Such a close proximity to the space beyond the door allowed him to hear what had been, before, a mere murmur. Now, however, the sounds from within the room beyond the door were clearer than ever before, and the growls had mutated into intelligent speech.

Or maybe the little monsters had just grown louder?

Dean had learnt from his previous...experience, singular, that it wasn't good to leave the animals alone.

Bracing himself, he wrapped a large, calloused hand around the door handle, letting the chill of the metal seep briefly into his skin before turning it, pushing the door open and stepping inside. Silence fell as he walked towards his desk, his footsteps echoing off the colourful walls that his prison was comprised of.

He stopped at his desk, leaving his weapons (one; briefcase, one; white board marker) within easy reach. Finally, he turned to face his enemies. He was outnumbered, about thirty to one. It was going to be a tough battle, but he was fairly sure he would get out alive.

He hoped.

Taking a deep breath, Dean blinked his large green eyes and opened his mouth.

"Good morning, class."

**Three days earlier**

Sam frowned at the dirt, stabbing at it roughly with his fingers. He sighed loudly and fidgeted uncomfortably, trying to find a comfortable position on the unforgiving ground. He heard a noise behind him and tensed, then relaxed again as he established it had just been a passing cat. 

"Sammy. Sammy!" someone hissed from the shadows. Sam narrowed his eyes and peered around the room, his gaze passing over a few broken chairs, a dusty dresser and cracked plaster walls. Finally he paused on a shadow that looked slightly 3D, in the furthest corner of the room.

"What now, Dean?" Sam asked tiredly. Dean leaned forward slightly, until Sam could make out his sharp green eyes and wrinkled brow.

"Stop fidgeting already! I thought you were meant to be the patient one?"

Sam briefly considered ignoring the bait, then frowned angrily.

"Yeah, well, it's kinda hard to relax when you're waiting for a spirit to come and kill you! Why do I always have to be the bait, anyway?"

"Cause you're the innocent one," Dean replied wickedly, chuckling quietly before retreating back into the shadows.

"Stupid brother...shoulda been an only child...shoulda stayed in school..." Sam muttered darkly, then sat back and closed his eyes, breathing out deeply and trying to relax, the way Jess had taught him to before going into exams. 

_Breathe in...breathe out...breathe in...breathe out...breathe-_

"Whatcha doing?" 

Sam's eyes flew open and he fell backwards, lying flat on the floor.

""Argh! Dean!"

"It's no good screaming, he can't hear us. And, might I say, that was just a _teensy_ bit girly?" the girl laughed, flickering slightly like one of those old black and white movies. She was about sixteen years old, and dressed in a pleated skirt and mid-riff bearing top, with a school logo on the back. Her hair, which probably would have been blonde when she was alive, was pulled back into a neat ponytail.

Sam bit his lip and glanced away, his heart heavy. He hated meeting the young ones, who could have had a whole future ahead of them, and who would've been such innocent creatures, up until their violent deaths.

Except...in this case, the girl _still_ looked pretty innocent. Well, she certainly didn't seem too malevolent, as she cocked her head and peered at Sam with her large, dark eyes.

"Dean?" Sam repeated, at a loss of anything else to say. He glanced over at Dean's corner and saw his older brother slumped against the wall, his eyes closed. 

Sam's heart squeezed to a stop for a second, until he saw Dean's chest slowly rise as he inhaled.

"What did you do to him!" Sam croaked, wanting to crawl towards his brother's side, but he appeared to be stuck to the ground. Sam would've bet the Impala on who was responsible for _that_ trick. He glared at the girl as menacingly as he could.

"You're a little on the twitchy side," the girl/ghost commented, seemingly unfazed by Sam's ultra death-glare. "I mean, take a chill pill much? He's fine, I just put him to sleep for a while. It's one of my tricks." She winked at Sam and flicked her fingers at him. He scrambled into a sitting position and slid backwards a little, watching her through narrowed eyes from a safe distance. 

She either didn't notice or didn't mind his scrutiny, and as far as he could tell, she didn't intend to harm him or Dean, who really did appear to be simply...sleeping. 

"Take a picture, it lasts longer," she quipped, bending over so she was looking him in the eye. So, she _had _noticed.

Several escape and attack tactics raced through Sam's head, but he dismissed them all as ridiculous, and decided on his fall back option. 

Talking.

"So, uh, if you don't mind me asking, how did you, uh...?"

"How did I what? Kick the bucket? Croak? Bite the dust? Pu-"

"Hey, enough of the euphemisms, alright?" Sam said slowly, seeing that she was upset and, despite his better instincts (considering she was a spirit) wanting to comfort her. She took a deep breath and smiled weakly, attempting to look casual.

"So, what are _you_ doing here? I mean, I've been hanging around this dump for like, two months now, and the only people I've seen are you two, a few mopey chicks and some crazy-ass couple. Not even my _friends_ have come to visit me!" She seemed strangely indignant for a spirit. Not that Sam hadn't seen worse emotions in a ghost before.

"Wait, you've been here for _two months_? Why haven't you...well, moved on? Is there something that's keeping you here?"

"More like some_one_," the girl muttered darkly. Sam chewed on his lip, confused and unsure, but she didn't continue, and he wasn't quite sure how to prompt her, without pissing her off.

"Holy je-Sam, look out!" Sam ducked as Dean half leapt, half fell forward, salt gun in his hand. The girl looked bewildered for a second, then she noticed the gun and backed away quickly, eyes wide with terror.

"Oh my-oh my _god_! Why the hell do you have a _gun_?" She looked frantically at Sam, who was straightening up, hoping no one had noticed him cowering. He blinked his soft brown hair out of his eyes and tried to smile reassuringly, which is hard to do when you're in an unexplainable, highly awkward situation.

"Oh, uh..." Dejectedly, Sam realised he didn't know her name. And he'd been talking to her for _how_ long?

"Sam, what is it?" Dean hissed, the gun still pointed threateningly in the deceased teenager's direction. She let out a soft whimper, bringing Sam to his senses. He strode over to Dean, who looked more than a little disoriented.

"Dean, put the-put the gun _down_!" Sam struggled with his older brother for a few seconds, until Dean caved and lowered his weapon. "Dude, look at her. She's harmless!"

Dean turned to look at the girl properly, eyes narrowed in suspicion. She certainly didn't look harmful...but most of the time, spirits didn't. It was part of their evil, twisted mojo, to try and lure you in. But _he_ wasn't going to fall for it!

Suddenly there was a scratching noise, coming from outside the door. Sam shot a warning look at Dean, then walked over to check it out.

Dean was by the ghos's side in a flash, eyes no larger than slit's.

"I don't know what you've said to my brother to convince him you're the new Casper, but you haven't fooled _me_, and I swear, you lay a single finger on him and I'll-"

"Ew!" she squealed, wrinkling her nose in a decidedly _un_-evil kind of way. "Dude, that's like...gross. Have you seen how old he is? I mean, he's definitely hot, and he's a sweetheart, and I know a few girls my age who would _definitely_ be all over him by now, especially that Rachel Wall...anyway. Point is, I _don't_ want to hurt him," she reiterated, placing so much emphasis on the word that Dean could almost feel it physically feel it hanging in the air between them.

"O...kay then," Dean nodded slowly, feeling slightly unnerved, not to mention humiliated that a teenage girl was making him freeze up like this. He would take an _angry_ spirit any day!

"Dean, why can't you just be _civil_ for once?" Sam sighed as he returned to them. The girl stepped away from Dean and smiled brightly at Sam, who smiled distractedly back. "It was just some rats." Sam ignored the shudder Dean tried to repress, and continued.

"Look, um, I'm sorry, but you really need to get outta here. See, we're waiting for something, something bad, and I really don't want you to be caught in the middle of it."

The girl seemed to blush, but got over it quickly and moved on to looking intrigued.

"Wait, you're not looking for like, a big creature, that looks kinda like, a human gone wrong? And smells like, rank?" Her eyes glazed over slightly as she remembered the smell. No one should be subjected to something like that, not even dead people.

"You've seen it?" Dean asked sharply, immediately suspicious again. "When?"

"Well, when I...died, I kinda didn't have anywhere to go. So I hung out here...and that thing, the fugly one, it came by one night, and it had a, a..._girl_," her voice dropped to a whisper and there was pure repulsion in her voice. "I'm not sure if she was dead when she came in, but she certainly was by the time it was done with her. I didn't get to talk to her after, but the same thing happened to another two girls and one guy, and I got to talk to some of them-"

"Wait, what do you mean, you talked to them?" Sam interrupted curiously. "Like, _them _them, or their spirits?" 

She paused, biting her lip, and frowned.

"I dunno...it's kinda hard to explain. But I've seen movies, right? Like, horror ones. In those stories, the people who die turn into ghosts and like, haunt people, you know? But most of the time, the people can't see them. With these guys it was like...they _wanted_ to leave, they just couldn't. But otherwise, they were like their normal selves." She glanced at the brothers from beneath her lashes; as if afraid she'd said the wrong thing. 

But they didn't notice; they were too busy frowning and puzzling over this new development.

Suddenly the girl straightened up and started to back away towards the window.

"Look, uh, hate to break up all the partying, but the thing is coming back, so I'm gonna...split." She paused, with one leg hanging out the window, as she glanced back at Sam. "It was cool talking to you, you know. If you...if you can figure out how I can, you know, move on...come find me, okay? See ya," she finished, flicking her hand in farewell at Sam, before leaping out the window. 

Sam blinked, unsure of what had just happened; it had all happened so quickly. Did he really _still_ not know her name?

"Ha, looks like someone's got an _admirer_!" Dean snickered, elbowing Sam sharply in the ribs. Sam shoved him right back, not noticing as Dean stumbled slightly, then blushed and regained his balance.

"Dude, what's with the tough love?"

"Something weird was going on here, or did you not notice, Dean?" Sam asked sharply, glaring at Dean.

"Yeah. She picked you over me! Now _that's_ gotta be a blue moon kinda thing, right?" Dean laughed at his own joke, then froze as they heard something stirring outside. The two men looked at each other.

"That sounded like a body," Sam said dully.

"Like a heavy, _dead_weight body," Dean echoed, equally serious. Then he frowned, snaking his gun out of his pocket in one easy motion. "C'mon. We can solve _this_ puzzle later; now, we have lives to save." Dean struck a pose, and Sam laughed, shaking his head. 

"Sure Dean. Whatever you say."

**Two days earlier**

Dean smiled in his sleep, rolling over onto his stomach and burying his face in his pillow.

"Mmm, pork," he mumbled sleepily, dribbling a little. Rolling over even more so that he was on his side, he blinked sleepily, frowning at the blurred object in front of him.

Had there always been a lamp there? Dean blinked again, wiping the sleep away from his eyes, then screamed when the blur refocused into a very creepy Sam, his face uncomfortably close, sitting on the edge of his bed.

"Sammy!" Dean roared, then paused to clear his throat. "Sammy," he repeated, in a much deeper tone. "What the hell!"

"Finally, I thought you were going to sleep _forever_!" Sam cried, leaping to his feet, and almost smacking his head on the motel's low ceiling. "Look, what happened yesterday has been bugging me _all_ night, and so I hit the internet and-"

"Wait, you've been up all night?" Dean grumbled, taking in all the discarded mugs for the first time, and noticing the scent of coffee hanging in the air. 

"Doesn't matter," Sam dismissed agitatedly. "Look, so, that girl, she had a logo on her uniform, okay? So I looked it up and found the school, but that's not all...!" Sam paused dramatically, hugging his laptop to his chest. Dean made 'go on' motions with his eyebrows, and Sam beamed.

"Look at _this_!" Sam swivelled the laptop around to show Dean the screen. At first he thought he was just looking at an article on the girl's school; nothing special. What you'd expect from a fairly upper class area. But then something near the bottom of the page caught his eye; a roughly fifty word article, just something small. But it was the _picture_ that he was interested in.

"Local superhero responsible for bad guy banishment," he read aloud, studying the slightly blurred, black-and-white picture of the 'superhero'. His eyes slowly travelled upwards to meet Sam's; it might have been the coffee, or maybe it was the rush from discovering the new clue. Either way, Sam's eyes were unnaturally bright. Dean looked down again, then swore under his breath.

"You can't be serious, Sammy!"

"Dean, we're going back to school!" Sam cackled triumphantly, then collapsed onto his bed in a deep sleep.

* * *

A/N: Hey guys, thanks for reading! So, this story is completely experimental, so depending on the response it gets, I might take it down and work on something else instead. So, please tell me what you think! Reviews are awesome (you know it!) 


	2. Chapter 2New

Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural or the boys ; )

EDIT: Sorry guys, there was a problem with the editing, hopefully now you'll all know when there's been a change in scene! (thanks Fantasygirl721)

* * *

"Sammy."

"Sammy. Hey, Sammy, wake up, we're here."

Sam's eyes flew open and he sat up abruptly, taking in his surroundings. Okay, so he was in the Impala...he thought back, trying to remember what time it had been when they'd left the motel.

"Sam, it's good to see you awake. You've been out for almost two days." Dean said gravely, his green eyes filled with concern.

Sam gaped at him, still slightly unsure of what was going on. Had he really slept that long? It sure felt like it.

Suddenly Dean's face split into a huge smile, his eyes crinkling at the corners and his white teeth flashing in the sunlight.

"Just kidding dude, it's only been a few hours. I would've woken you, but it was too much fun doing unspeakable things to you while you were unconscious."

Sam frowned and swung the car door open, stretching once he was outside, breathing in the fresh air and smiling.

"Dean, that isn't very funny," he finally said when he was fully awake. Dean, who had hopped out of the car and was now propping the boot open, grinned slyly.

"Dude, who said I was kidding? Hey, if you find M&M's in your hair, it wasn't me, okay?"

Sam stuck his hands in his pockets and hunched his shoulders against the cold. They were parked across the street from some expensive private school. The school gates, which were cruel and pointy-looking, had the crest carved into it, so there was no way they were at the wrong school.

Which kinda sucked, because this place would be _impossible_ to break into at night, which is what they had been planning to do. Up til now.

"Maybe we could go in undercover?" Sam mused, leaning against the side of the car. Dean's head appeared from within the boot, a grease stain streaked across his cheek.

"Dude, there is _no_ way we could be mistaken as students!"

"Even if we were young enough, Dean, it wouldn't matter. It's an all girl school."

"I dunno, Sammy. Or should I say Samantha? You would look quite fetching in a dress," Dean sniggered.

Instead of looking sulky, Sam grinned too, his intelligent eyes sparkling.

"Dean, I'll forget for a moment that you just said 'fetching', because I'm more worried about you imagining me in a _dress_. A little messed up, don't you think?"

Dean froze, his face going white as he considered this new angle. And then he promptly disappeared into the trunk again, his muttered 'shuddup' lingering in the air.

Sam grinned triumphantly, wishing that someone else could've been around to witness his win, then was glad they were alone when a loud bell rang a moment later and he jumped a foot in the air.

"What was that?" Dean asked curiously, closing the boot's door so he could stand next to Sam, wondering why his brother's face was suddenly so red.

"Huh? What? Oh, uh, the school bell. Nothing to be scared by," Sam mumbled hastily, then laughed nervously. Dean stared at him, nonplussed, and Sam cleared his throat.

Dean eyed Sam suspiciously and took a step closer to the school, watching as groups of girls poured out into the yard, talking and yelling as they took out their lunches.

"So, you think we should go scope out the place?" Dean suggested. Sam gave him a disgusted look and moved away a few paces.

"Dean, that's gross. They're like, ten years younger than you. They're not even _legal_."

"No, I wouldn''t-I didn't mean that!" Dean yelped, shocked that anyone would suggest such a thing. Sam's face split into a grin and Dean realised Sam had just gotten his revenge.

"I can''t believe you just did that," Dean said hollowly.

"I guess it's the demon in me," Sam joked, then the brothers fell into an awkward silence, the joke hanging in the air between them.

"So, you wanted to...check out the place?" said Sam stiltedly.

"Yeah, sure, why not!" Dean grinned, overly enthusiastic, and together they walked closer to the gates.

"Hey, you go that way, I'll take this side," Sam ordered, pointing Dean in the right direction. "Try not to look creepy or anything. Just watch for a place we can break in easily where there aren't many camer-"

"Sammy, you forgetting who you're talking to?" Dean boasted. "I am like, ninja-stealthy." Still chortling, Dean turned around and started walking at a leisurely pace. After a few metres he chanced a glance over his shoulder; Sam was gone from sight.

Letting himself relax, Dean exhaled loudly, blowing his cheeks out. There was something unusual going on with Sam...Dean just hoped it wasn't anything more serious than a mild case of exhaustion.

Because with Sam, the list of 'what ifs' were so insanely long, it wasn't even funny. At least, not to Dean. His life was with Sammy, so looking after him was selfish, in a way. No matter how he acted, he really didn't want to die. Which meant Sammy couldn't, either.

Dean's phone went off in his pocket and Dean jumped guiltily, glancing at the school for the first time before fishing around in his pocket for his mobile. If it was Sammy, he'd have to bluff his way through any questions; he hadn't been paying _any_ attention to the layout of the school.

"Sammy, what's up?" Dean said lightly, disguising the sigh that tried to slip from his lips.

"Dean?" Sam asked tentatively, which Dean thought was kinda stupid, considering _Sammy_ had called _him_. "I...kinda made a mistake. Can you meet me at the car?"

Dean hung up, quelling the questions that crowded his mind whenever he was apart from his younger brother.

"Man, I am too young to be his mother," Dean sighed, turning around and heading back the way he had come.

Sam was sitting in the passenger seat of the Impala, looking surprisingly subdued. Feeling slightly apprehensive, Dean opened his car door and slid into his seat.

"So. You find a security gap, or what?"

"No, I kinda...got caught," Sam said sheepishly, peering at his hands.

"You what?!"

"It was an_ accident_!" Sam hurriedly defended himself, looking Dean defiantly in the eye. "I mean, I was walking along, minding my own business, when I noticed a road-side memorial-"

"A what?" Dean asked, confused.

"A memorial thing. You know, when there's a victim of a car accident or something, and people put flowers and photos there in remembrance. So I took a closer look, and Dean, it was _her_."

Sam paused, but Dean just sat there, waiting for him to continue.

"This is where you gasp and let _me_ know that _you_ know who I'm talking about," Sam supplied helpfully.

"Oh, sorry, I'm just not used to _being lame_," Dean snapped, his voice starting out kind and growing more pissed off as he progressed. "Just tell me who it was, Sammy!"

"The ghost girl," Sam finished sulkily. "I recognised her straight away. Her name is Claire Washfield, and as far as I can tell she died about a week ago, in a hit and run."

Dean looked thoughtful as Sam finished, then frowned.

"Wait, what's this got to do with you getting caught? And by who?"

"Oh, well," Sam said embarrassedly. "These girls, they were sitting by the school fence. They saw me looking and asked if I knew her." Dean interrupted Sam with a groan.

"You didn't!"

"I did," Sam gulped. "I said I was a friend, who had just heard. I asked them what happened, and they were almost done telling me when this guy came up behind them and told me I wasn't allowed to be talking to them, and I should leave before he called for backup."

"So the school's got security guards." Dean mulled this new problem over, then sighed. "Man, what is _with_ this place? I know _banks_ that have less security than this."

Sam snorted. "Yeah, luckily for us."

They sat in silence, and then Dean turned and whacked Sam on the shoulder.

"Hey, so what'd they tell you 'bout her?"

"Uh, ow!" Sam shot Dean a warning look to never, _ever_ do that again. "Just some stuff about how great she was. Oh, they did say something strange...about it not being so unusual...I'm not really sure what they meant though."

"And you didn't think to ask?" Dean said incredulously. Sam glared at him, his intelligence insulted.

"Hey, wait til 'Mr I-have-more-muscles-than-bones' confronts you, and we'll se how long _you_ hang around for."

"I could've taken him," Dean mumbled, hoping Sam wouldn't ask him to prove it.

Sam, however, was too distracted by the brilliant idea that had just formed in his head. The hard part would be convincing Dean.

"Hey, Dean, you still got that old suit in there somewhere?"

Dean watched his brother suspiciously, as if expecting another scam.

"I'm not sure. Why do you want it?"

Sam shrugged nonchalantly, deciding that whistling casually would be going a bit too far.

"It's just, it's something a _teacher_ would wear, isn't it?"

Dean shrugged, then his eyes widened as he understood.

"Oh. Oh! Sammy, you're a _genius_!"

**--supernatural scene change--**

"Sammy, you're an _idiot_."

"Aw, c'mon Dean, don't be a sore loser!"

"I didn't lose at anything!" Dean hissed, trying to walk away from the school, while Sam pushed him rather more effectively in the other direction.

"No, I guess you didn't," Sam pretended to think hard. "Hey, I guess that means _everyone_ wins!"

"No it doesn't Sammy, because you _still_ think that I'm seriously going through with this. You're wrong, by the way," Dean added aggressively, afraid Sam hadn't gotten his point.

Sam suddenly stopped tugging at his brother's jacket, which meant Dean had to run forward a few steps before he could gain his balance. He turned around, glaring viciously at his brother, glad that the school didn't start for another fifteen minutes, so no one had been around to see that.

However, once he caught sight of Sam's face; his pouting mouth, his large, pleading eyes, his slumped shoulders, Dean's glare fell right away and he sighed.

"Don't do this Sammy."

"Don't do what?" Sam sniffed, his eyes bright-with what? Tears? Reflected sunlight? Dean wasn't sure. "I'm not doing anything. Not anymore, I guess. I mean, I don't want you to feel _bad_ or anything Dean. I s'pose it's my fault."

"No, its not-" Dean started helplessly, hating the fact that he had to see Sam like this.

"No, don't apologise, Dean! I mean, if only _I_ could be more useful, if only _I_ could be the one to go undercover, then us driving up here wouldn't have been a complete waste of our time. Of _your_ time. It's _all _my fault." Sam started pacing, his large shoes kicking angrily at the ground. "That poor girl, who is stuck here in some crazy limbo-life, can't move on because of _me_. And we'll never find out if that superhero is something supernatural or just a crazy guy playing dress-up. All because the security here recognises me."

Sam sniffed loudly, turning his back to Dean and hanging his head like a rejected puppy. Dean groaned loudly, looking up to glare at the sky and damn whatever higher being had cursed him with such a vulnerable, sneaky little brother.

"Argh, dammit Sammy, I'll do it," Dean growled. Sam whirled around, beaming, all signs of despair gone from his face. "You're the best, Dean!"

"Shuddup," Dean muttered, hiding his face so Sam couldn't see the blush that was spreading up his neck to his face. "So, what do you want me to do?"

"You need to walk in there like you belong, okay Dean?" Sam said seriously. "That's what's holding this all together; them believing you. Go to the main office, ask for Claire's files. Hopefully they'll give you it without questioning, and then you get the hell out of there."

Dean gaped at Sam, who grinned hopefully.

"That's it? That's your master plan?! Sammy, its crap!" Sam's face fell, and Dean hastened to rephrase. "I mean, what happens if they call that security dude in?"

"I guess you'll get your chance to go up against him." Sam said innocently. Dean cursed under his breath.

"Damn karma." And then, a little louder, "Fine, I'll do it. But you better be out here waiting for me, or I swear I'll kick your ass."

"Whatever you say Dean," Sam smiled cheekily. He waved cheerily as Dean walked tensely through the gates, nodding at everyone who walked passed. Considering there was only a few minutes until school started, there was a considerable amount of girls streaming past, and a few frazzled teachers too.

_Dean looks like a little bobble-head_, Sam thought happily, leaning back in his chair and closing his eyes. _God, I'm tired. Oh well, it won't be long before Dean comes back-possibly with pursuers-and then we can head back to our motel room for a nice, long sleep._

Sam's eyes had just drifted closed when there was a loud rapping at the window. Sam jumped, his eyes flying wide open, then grinned uncertainly when he saw a man around his age at the window. The stranger mimed winding his window down, so Sam complied, mentally reminding himself that his gun was in his coat pocket.

"Hi, can I help you?" he asked benevolently. The guy grinned back, but it didn't reach his eyes, which watched Sam suspiciously. Sam looked into them and noticed some movement in their reflection. He moved to turn around, and saw a woman standing outside the car by the driver's seat.

Confused, Sam turned around again to look at the man, but before he could register anything a cloth was being pressed against his face. The smell of chloroform filled his senses and a few seconds later, Sam slumped into his seat.

"I sure hope so," the guy said, then laughed as he opened he opened the door, and Sam's body fell out, landing in a crumpled heap on the ground.

The woman came around the car to stand next to him as he lifted Sam to his feet, which was hard as Sam was a few inches taller than him.

"Did you really have to laugh like that?" she questioned with mild interest.

"Was it too creepy? I _knew_ it was too creepy," he sighed, throwing Sam into the backseat of his own car, parked a few metres away. "Man, I gotta stop watching those old horror movies."

**--supernatural scene change--**

Dean stood in the school's receptionist area, feeling strangely out of place. Of course, he had _always_ felt awkward in schools. Even as a kid he had felt trapped and kinda...clone-like whenever he stepped inside one. All the kids always looked the same to him. Well, they always looked normal, which is pretty much the same thing, he reasoned.

"Excuse me, can I help you?" the receptionist asked, peering at him over the top of her glasses. Dean took in the lipstick on her teeth and her floral-print blouse and inwardly shuddered, hating Sam for putting him in this position.

"I sure hope so," he said charmingly, unaware that at that same moment, someone else was saying the same to his unconscious brother. All he knew was that he was about to flirt with this woman old enough to be his grandmother, if she had been alive.

He had just leant casually against the counter when a stressed looking man ran into the office, his bald patch gleaming in the artificial yellow light. He ran right to the counter and stood next to Dean, although he didn't seem to notice Dean.

"Hi, Ethel, we're in a spot of bother I'm afraid, it looks like the emergency teacher to replace Mr.Maquire didn't turn up, and Mrs.Klaus has to look after her own _and_ his-"

"Mrs.Klaus? Seriously?" Dean snorted, and the worried man turned to him, his attention finally grabbed. Dean immediately froze, realising he'd just ruined a great don't-draw-attention opportunity.

"Who are you, then?" the man asked, not rudely.

"I'm, uh, De-Mr.Winchester?" Dean stuttered, immediately kicking himself for using his real name.

"Oh, you must be the fill in for Mr.Maquire!" the man beamed, looking as though Dean had just made his year. "Oh, I'm Stewart Stuart, the maths teacher. You have no idea how worried you had me, young man!"

Stewart Stuart laughed humourlessly, grabbing Dean by the elbow and dragging him out the front doors. Dean glanced back, his eyes filled with panic, to see Ethel waving sultrily after him. Dean gulped and turned back around, suddenly relieved to be with this quirky man.

"So, this is your timetable, you have a free after lunch, so do I so you can come and see me and I'll fill you in properly, your first class starts-" A loud bell rung, and suddenly the hallway was swarmed with teenage girls rushing to their next class. "Now, so you better hurry! Have a good day, Mr.Winchester, and welcome to the school!"

Stewart Stuart's small frame disappeared into the crowd as Dean stood there glumly, clutching his timetable to his chest and wondering how the hell he had gotten himself into this situation.

A/N: Thankyou to everyone who reviewed the first chapter and favourited this story! Please review again and tell me what you think! Thanks. Next chapter, Dean has his first class, and Sam confronts his kidnappers...


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